Charity

This morning I was approached just outside Waitrose by a charity collector, rattling a box. She had nice tits, so I gave her £1, whereupon she affixed me with an “I saved the whales” or “I single-handedly saved Africa from poverty” (or whatever) sticker, before I quickly moved on. In fact, there were at least half a dozen of these people out there today, all exhibiting the same modus operandi. That’s to say, you gave them money (curiously, it didn’t seem to matter how much or how little) then they gave you a sticker, which you put on your lapel.

Thinking about it, though, this system stinks.

Why is it that everyone gets an identical sticker, regardless of how much they've given? Surely, it stands to reason that, if I donate, say, £1, then I should get a better sticker than someone who's only given 50 pence. Otherwise, it's like a car showroom selling everyone a Skoda or a Hillman Imp, regardless of whether they've paid £5 or £50,000.

To operate a fairer policy, charity collectors should be graded according to their rates. So, for instance, the bottom end operatives would wear jackets printed with "50 pence to £2". By law, they'd only be allowed to accept money within that range. If you wanted to give £5, you'd have to find a "£2.50 to £10" collector. This would go right to the top, where there would be collectors who'd refuse to accept anything but platinum Amex cards and bankers' drafts over £20,000. And, naturally, each grade of collector would dispense his own, distinctive sticker. In this way, those who'd given the most money would be readily distinguishable from the cheapskates.

I suppose there is potential here for abuse of the system. For example, the top end collectors, flush with money, might start to act like international banks, and invest their funds in all sorts of dubious causes. Do we really need the likes of Help the Aged and CAFOD trying to destabilise friendly, foreign governments, laundering drug money, and investing in North Korean nuclear arms projects? I don't think so.

The next time I pass a Help the Aged shop I’ll lob a brick through the window just to warn the bastards off.